


A Touch of Concern

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Son of Batman (2014), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Worries Just a Smidge, Confused Batkids, Jason is a Dork, coping methods, sleepy tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 04:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: After Bruce gets Damian back from the dead, he goes into overprotective mode on all of his kids. None of them are quite sure what to do about it.





	A Touch of Concern

**Author's Note:**

> I refuse to be sorry. I found the comic strip for Damian waking up thinking he's dreaming and I couldn't help it.

          Bruce snaps awake after a nightmare, drenched in sweat. It's his worst one in a long time. His instincts tell him to go to Damian's room as fast as he can, but rationally he thinks that Damian wouldn't appreciate it. He leans back, trying to ease himself back to sleep, but checking on Damian is an itch in the back of his mind that won't stop bothering him. 

          Finally, Bruce gives himself a shake. Irrational desire aside, looking in on him couldn't hurt. He climbs out of bed, rubbing a hand through his messy hair and straightening his sweats. Padding through the hall without a sound, Bruce reaches Damian's door. He opens the door, peering inside. Damian is sitting up in bed, face buried in his hands. Bruce enters, closing the door behind him. 

          "Damian?"

          Damian's head snaps up and he wipes his face. "What is it, father?"

          "Are you all right?"

          Damian chews his lip for a second, a habit he picked up from Barbara, loath as he would be to admit it. " _No._ "

          The admission is so quiet, Bruce almost doesn't catch it. He sits down on the bed, pulling Damian into his arms. "Better?"

          Damian nods, leaning against Bruce's chest. Bruce kisses the top of his head, calming himself down right alongside Damian. Damian is crying. Bruce won't mention it, but he can tell that his son is more distressed than he's letting on. He wraps around Bruce's front and Bruce carries him from his room, rubbing his back. He puts Damian in his room just as a distressed sound comes from one of the other boys' rooms. Damian looks up at him imploringly and Bruce picks him up so that he can wrap around his back instead. 

          His short investigation leads him to Jason's room where the boy is lying in his bed covered in sweat. He whimpers and Bruce has to take every measure not to dislodge the son on his back to help him. Tim pokes his head in the door, dark circles under his eyes and his long hair covering half of his face. 

          "Bruce? Everything okay?"

          "Getting there." 

          He gathers Jason up into his arms, murmuring reassurances in his ear. Satisfied as he starts to calm, Bruce turns around, headed back to his room. Jason nearly stirs in his arms when Bruce lays him down, but Bruce is just careful enough.

          "Damian, can you stay with him?"

          Damian nods, curling into Jason's chest, an action so absurd that Bruce thinks it might be a clone for a fraction of a second. Jason wraps around him in return, Bruce nodding and turning back around. Tim is standing in the doorway, tired eyes watering a little. Bruce directs him to the bed and heads down the hall to get his other son. Dick wakes when he opens the door.

          "B? What's up?"

          Bruce doesn't say anything, picking him up. 

          "I have legs of my own, you know that, right?"

          "Mmm."

          "I'm too big to be carried around like I'm ten. That's what you have Damian for, if he wouldn't stab you for doing it, that is."

          "Mmm."

          Dick sighs dramatically, resigning himself to being carried around. Bruce smiles to himself as he places his oldest in the bed as well, carding a hand through Tim's hair. He murmurs sleepily, Dick twisting to wrap around him. He tugs Jason a little closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Jason shifts to turn over, a sleeping Damian in his arms. Once Damian is resting on his chest and Jason is snugly under Bruce's right arm, Dick mimics him, planting Tim on the left side of Bruce's chest. 

          "What's this about, B?" Dick whispers. 

          "Just reassuring myself, is all."

          "Nightmares?"

          "Something like that." 

          Dick moves a little closer, milking Bruce's sudden urge to cuddle for all it's worth. Bruce obliges, wrapping his other arm around Dick's shoulders. He doesn't find it so hard to sleep with them right next to him. Jason takes a sharp breath and Bruce looks at his face, his expression shifting towards pain. He presses a kiss to Jason's forehead, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze.

          "You're all right, kiddo. It's okay."

          Jason presses closer to Bruce, still holding Damian firmly in his grip. They're all calm and asleep before too long. Bruce has never been more glad for the monstrous size of his bed.

          The morning brings a loud thunk and muffled swearing. "Where in the-" there's another impact and more swearing. " _Shit._ "

          Bruce rouses with a drowsy chuckle. "Morning, Jason."

          "Uh, heh, morning dad. You didn't.... um... what- how did I get here?"

          "I carried you."

          Jason looks suitably ruffled as he crawls back into the bed. "A little warning next time?"

          "You were having a nightmare, and I'd already brought Damian."

          Jason sighs, lying down a short distance away from Bruce. He shivers and Bruce beckons him back toward his side. Jason is shockingly complacent, not even an argument coming before he moves. Bruce smiles as he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh. 

          "Night, Jaybird."

          Blue eyes flick open to look at him and a lazy smile crosses his face before he drifts off again. "Night, B."

* * *

          It was a mistake on Dick's part, honestly. It has only been two days since the slumber party incident and he's feeling a cold coming on. He never should have come out on patrol. He definitely shouldn't have come out around Bruce.

          *Achoo!*

          Dick wipes his noise. Gordon raises a brow from where he's standing near the yellow police tape. His eyes widen a smidge and Dick turns around. Bruce is  _right there._ Dick jumps back. The cape and cowl do little to hide his concern and Dick sighs. 

          "Any particular reason you snuck up on me, B?"

          Bruce tilts his head and Dick tries not to make it awkward by resisting. He's a little confused by Bruce's casual perusal of his face and neck, and he's eighty percent certain that Bruce scanned him. 

          "Your lymph nodes are swollen and you have a slight fever."

          Dick subtly pushes his hands away. "...B, you are aware we're on camera, right?"

          "I should care, why?"

          Dick tries not to gape, he really does. "You have a reputation to uphold, and we're in the middle of a case."

          Bruce opens his mouth to respond when Dick sneezes again. His mouth presses into a thin line and he pulls something out of his belt. He hands four frozen cubes to Dick and Dick's brow furrows. "Take one every hour."

          "B, are you serious? Frozen cold medicine?"

          "I had spares."

          "Spares? Who else have you been treating?"

          Bruce smirks. "No answers until you take one."

          Dick's eyes dart to the camera and back to Bruce. Groaning, he swallows one and puts the rest in his utility belt. He can only imagine the news headline for tomorrow. They're far enough away to avoid recordings, but not the camera feed itself. Bruce seems satisfied and ruffles Dick's hair before turning and grappling away. Dick stands there, frozen.  _He ruffled my hair?_

          Giving himself a shake, he follows Bruce to the rooftop. "Okay, spill. Who else are you treating?"

          "Hood is helping out some street kids and a few were sick, so he asked for a hand."

          "And you had to baby me in front of the press, why exactly?"

          Bruce huffs. "It's called parenting."

          "It's called, you're a worrier. And if you were so worried, couldn't it have waited until after we were on the roof?"

          Bruce shakes his head and mutters. "Stubborn kid."

          "Excuse me?"

          "You heard me. Come on. We're going home."

          "Um... no. I can handle myself."

          Dick can't see it, but he can feel the Brow of Doom raise under the cowl that stands for the unspoken 'Oh, really?'. "And if, by some chance, your cold gets worse and you give yourself away? Or, you could potentially fall into Gotham Bay. Or, in the middle of a fight, you could get dizzy and be thrown off-balance. Or, the cold medicine could make you tired. Or-"

          "Whoa, whoa, whoa, B! Slow down. Did you get hit with emotion gas or something? Because this is beyond weird, even for you."

          Bruce moves forwards, grabbing Dick's shoulders and giving him a firm shake. "I need to know you're safe."

          There's an intensity to him that Dick hasn't seen in years and he nods slowly. "Okay."

          "Good."

          Dick watches him leap from the building, eyes wide with confusion. Bruce lets him know when the Batmobile is below and he jumps inside. Bruce glances at him before the top closes and he accelerates. 

          Dick hates to admit it, but he _is_ feeling a little tired.

* * *

          **A week after the slumber party incident**

          Jason grins as he backflips off a building. He's in a really good mood, a little giddy, in fact. He finished restoring an old car earlier and then took it to a shipment at the docks. He then passed go and collected three hundred grand. 

          A good day.

          He leaps a gap and drops down into Crime Alley to stop a mugging or two. He finds a convoy of Black Mask's guys, Batman already on the hood of the rear car, lying flat so they don't see him. 

          Apparently, Jason isn't as well-hidden as he thinks. The lead car slams on the skids and the other three follow in suit. They get out and one opens fire on him. Bruce tackles him to the ground, knocking him out with a swift punch. Jason leaps down to lend a hand, ducking under Batman's next punch to hit the guy behind him. 

          The sound of a high-caliber rifle firing nearby has Jason hitting the deck. Bruce follows shortly after, grabbing onto the front of his jacket and rolling him under one of the vehicles. Jason takes his cue, flipping on his x-ray filter to find the sniper. When he's lining up a shot, Jason makes a break for the building he's in. The sniper isn't expecting him and Jason takes the poor guy out. He leaps out the window, ready to jump back into the fight. 

          Three rounds slam into his armor, the air leaving his lungs in a wheezing gasp. Pain flies through him as he lands on the ground, stumbling. He crawls to a knee, choking on a breath he can't take. He looks up, trying to locate the sniper, but another round takes him back to the ground. They won't get through his armor, but it definitely puts him on the ground. The last of the hand-to-hand fighting finishes up while Jason is crawling to his feet again and Bruce grabs onto him. He grapples to the top of a building, only telling him to stay before zipping off to get the sniper.

          Jason starts to get up to follow, but his chest squeezes with pain, forcing him to lay back down. He takes short, painful breaths, counting seconds until Bruce comes back for him.  _He's coming back._ Jason can't breathe. He pulls the release for his helmet, gasping as he unzips his jacket. His armor is barely dented, but he can feel the swelling already.  _It hurts._ Jason tilts his head back, groaning.

          He thinks he might have blacked out, because when he opens his eyes, Bruce is hovering over him in the cave. He's checking on the bandages spanning Jason's chest, the cowl off. 

          "Dad?"

          Bruce turns, putting a hand on his chest to keep him from trying to give up. Jason groans in pain and Bruce's hand lifts immediately. Jason shakes his head. 

          "S' not.... jus' hurts."

          Bruce nods. "Okay."

          "M' cold."

          Bruce smiles, turning around and picking up a stack of blankets. "Take your pick."

          Jason smirks, pointing to the one in the middle. "That one first." Bruce is careful about putting it on him and Jason rolls his eyes. "I ain't fudgin' fragile, B."

          Bruce's smile in response to that is strained.

          "What?"

          "You had internal bleeding. You passed out on me."

          Jason swallows. "Huh."

          Bruce places a hand on Jason's forehead and Jason leans into it. "....feels good."

          "Good. You want to go upstairs?"

          Jason nods. Bruce picks him up, making sure the blanket is still positioned exactly right to keep him covered. Jason groans again, his face scrunching up in pain. Bruce presses a kiss to his temple and Jason's eyes widen is surprise. 

          "Wha's that for?"

          Bruce chuckles. "Love you, Jay. I was worried."

          "Bruce-"

          "Don't tell me not to worry, kiddo. You're my son, it's my job."

          Jason smiles weakly, yawning. "M' tired."

          Bruce chuckles. "I'm sure you are. It's been a long few hours."

          "You're actin' funny an' it's confusing me. Makin'" Jason yawns again. "Makin' me tired."

          "You'd better get used to it." Bruce murmurs, walking up the stairs and settling Jason into his bed.

* * *

           **Two months after the incident**

          Tim doesn't remember when it started, but somebody has been making sure he's healthy. Dick used to, but he gave up when he realized Tim hid energy drinks everywhere. But  _someone_ has been replacing his drinks with water when he isn't looking.  _Someone_ has been making sure that there are healthy snacks nearby when Tim is hungry. And that's really weird. They know when he's hungry.

          He asked Bruce about it, but he shrugged, buried in paperwork in his study. Tim doubts he even heard the question as focused as he is. He accused Dick of trying to stage an intervention again, and then Jason of trying to confuse him. He doesn't even ask Damian. Damian was a little offended, but he would never say it.

          Tim marks on his checklist.  _1.Too busy. 2.Eternally deterred._ Tim grins. _3.Would make sure I knew about it. 4.Wouldn't even think about it._ Tim is just confused, and a little freaked out that someone gets into his room twice a day, has a way into WE, and knows what he likes and doesn't like. He would think about blaming Alfred, but the old butler has always been good about making sure that they know he's around in the past. 

          He  _really_ doesn't want to go to Bruce and say that he thinks someone is creeping around the house and his work until he's certain that it's not someone close to him. Bruce would probably grunt, upgrade security, and leave it at that. 

          He's so focused on chewing his lip and thinking that he slams into Bruce as he comes out of his study. Bruce grips his shoulders to steady him. "Tim? What's wrong? You seem.... distracted."

          Like, he  _really_ doesn't want to. "Um... nothing. Just running some numbers through the ol' thinker." he says, tapping his forehead. 

          Bruce's lips twitch up into a smile, but then his brow furrows. "What is it really?"

          "I think someone is stalking me."

          Bruce frowns. "Why?"

          "I keep finding food and stuff in all the places that I frequent. Work, my room, the Batcave, but I've never found any traces or signs, and the cameras never pick anything up, and I just.... I don't know."

          Bruce pulls Tim into a hug. "How long?"

          "Two weeks."

          "Tim." Bruce says, his tone lowering to the one that claims he hears a lie.

          "Fine. A month and a half."

          Bruce's frown deepens. "And you didn't say anything?"

          "I... I wanted... I needed to.... I didn't..."

          "You were scared."

          Tim nods, gripping the back of Bruce's shirt as he tears up. Bruce rubs his back. 

          " _I still can't figure it out._ "

          Bruce strokes his hair. "Hey, Tim?"

          Tim only squeezes him tighter. 

          Bruce puts him out at arm's length and crouches down to look up at his face. He thumbs tears from Tim's cheeks. "I am so, so sorry that this scared you, Tim. I don't have a lot of free time this season and I was just trying to make sure you were okay."

          Tim's blue eyes flick up to meet Bruce's. " _It was you?_ "

          "Yeah." a sob drops from Tim's mouth. "Hey, hey, Tim. It's okay. I didn't mean to scare you."

          " _I didn't.... I should have-_ "

          Bruce shakes his head. "No. This was my fault. I should have told you that I was doing it when I first started."

          Tim sinks into Bruce's arms and he cries. Bruce shushes him. 

          "I'm so sorry, Tim."

          " _The th-thought was n-nice._ "

          Bruce shakes his head. He picks Tim up in his arms, noting that he's so frail compared to Dick and Jason. Tim clutches to him. 

          " _You... you have no idea how good it is to kn-know that it was you._ "

          Bruce kisses the top of Tim's head, shushing him. "Do you want me to stop?"

          " _Just... say hello, or something._ "

          "Okay. I can do a hello."

* * *

           **Four months after the incident**

          Damian hasn't said anything, but father has been acting strange for a while now. He's very.... paternal. He's not sure what to make of it, but Bruce seems to be making an effort to take care of them more. Jason had been sick last week and Bruce just wouldn't stop fussing. Jason hadn't complained, but he did say it was odd.

          Oh, and Damian broke his wrist and Bruce checks on him every five minutes despite the fact that all he's doing is sitting in front of the Batcomputer. A shoulder pat here, a head touch there. He checks the cast, makes him take his medication, ruffles his hair. All of it is very confusing. 

          Once Bruce comes in from patrol, he picks Damian up.

          "Father, put me down! What is wrong with you? I demand to know why you keep fretting over me like some tedious grandmother."

          Bruce laughs and Damian stills, looking up at his father. "It's because I love you, Damian. I don't say it enough, and I should."

          "Mother always said love was a liability."

          "Talia says a lot of things."

          Damian subtly curls into Bruce's chest. "She told me she was proud once."

          Bruce sighs, touching his forehead to Damian's. "Once?"

          Damian closes his eyes. "It was my first kill."

          "How old?"

          "I don't see how that is-"

          Bruce shakes his head. "How old, Damian?"

          "Four."

          Bruce takes a sharp breath, shifting Damian around so his short legs are wrapped around his torso and his arms around Bruce's neck. Bruce leans his head against Damian's, planting a kiss in his hair. Damian will never admit that he enjoys the attention, that it makes him feel like he's loved. 

          "My boy." Bruce says lowly.

          Bruce remembers what Dick told him once, and what his response had been.  _ **Bruce, he's a ten-year-old boy.**_ _No. He just looks like one._ Bruce wants so badly for that to be wrong, for Damian to have a real childhood. Dick has been trying, but there's only so much one guy can do.

          "I love you so much, Damian. All of you. More than I can express."

          "Even Tim?" Damian doesn't know what possesses him to ask, ignoring the fact that he thinks it may make father laugh again.

          Bruce laughs, wrapping his arms around Damian tighter. "Even Tim."

          Damian smiles to himself, letting his father hold onto him. The other boys join them in the cave, their patrols finished and each collects a hug from Bruce before they retreat to the showers. Damian is now on Bruce's back and he carries the boy up to his room. 

          "Father?" Damian says softly.

          "Yes, Damian?"

          "Could we-" he stops, unfamiliar territory making him waver. "Could we sleep in your room?"

          "Of course." 

          If Damian is comforted by the rocking motion of Bruce's stride, that's nobody's business but his own. And if they just so happen to be joined in Bruce's bed by three other bodies who just happen to be his brothers, and he just  _happens_ to cuddle with Jason a little, well.... anyone who thinks about saying something won't live to tell the tale. 

          Bruce is just content with the fact that his sons are all safe, Tim's snores aside. He's asleep when Alfred comes in to check on him, just like he's done every night since the boy was born. A smile crosses the elderly man's face.

          "Master Bruce. The day you cease to amaze me. I hope it never comes."

**Author's Note:**

> I know there wasn't a lot of Alfred in this, but it is what it is.


End file.
